Conversation With Idiots 101
by Red Witch
Summary: Some things are best left unsaid.


**Someone talked about the disclaimer saying that I don't own any Archer characters and it went away somewhere. Don't know why. And I don't know why this came out of my head. But it did.**

 **Conversation With Idiots 101**

"Of all the stupid things that have ever come out of Cyril's stupid brain that gives _nothing_ but **stupid ideas** …" Archer spoke up. "This has got to be one of the **stupidest!** And considering his track record, that's an accomplishment unto itself!"

The entire Figgis Agency was sitting in the conference room. Ray slightly turned his head to look at Archer. "Technically the stupidest idea Cyril had was telling you that there was enough in the budget to get fireworks for the Chinese New Year's party."

"Oh like he wouldn't have brought them on his own!" Cyril pointed to Archer.

"He has a point there," Archer said. "But not about **this!"**

"Archer we need to do something productive today," Cyril said. "Anything productive. Since we have no clients! And I have to do something to justify a damn paycheck!"

"And we **need** a paycheck," Lana said. "For these new things called food, clothing and shelter."

"But a dumb team building exercise involving _talking_?" Archer snapped. "That's **boring!** At least the trust fall exercises we used to do were interesting."

"And produced a lot of concussions," Krieger admitted.

"Why are we doing this?" Archer moaned.

"Because conversation is a dying art," Cyril said. "And we should talk more. Instead of stabbing each other and swinging **axes!"**

"I said I was sorry! Jesus," Pam groaned. "Get a little out of control one poker night and no one lets you forget it!"

"So basically, we're all being punished for Cheryl and Pam going crazy?" Ray grumbled.

"And having poker night when you were specifically **banned** from doing it!" Cyril snapped.

"Mother why are you **allowing** this?" Archer asked.

"Because it's a team building exercise," Mallory sighed. "Secondly as punishment for the poker thing. And third…Honestly I have nothing better to do."

"I don't believe it," Archer blinked.

"Neither do I," Mallory groaned. "I was so bored I even dusted my own desk! But since I'm so tidy that only lasted three minutes. Actually more like two and a half but I rounded up. Curse my innate sense of neatness!"

"Look this is easy," Cyril pushed a small bowl filled with paper. "We each pick a topic from this bowl and we discuss it."

"Can we discuss this at a bar?" Archer asked. "And just drop the discussion part?"

"No!" Lana said.

"If I was Pam I would be in my office for a week and never have to come out," Mallory added. "But nooooo! I have to be Mrs. Freaking Perfect!"

"I would put a few other words instead of freaking around the word perfect," Cheryl remarked. Mallory glared at her.

"Archer just pick a topic so we can start," Cyril said. "And get it over with before Ms. Archer decides to murder Cheryl."

"Figures," Archer grumbled. "The one time I **don't** want to go first…"

"Just read the card," Mallory ordered as Archer picked a card.

"Who is the luckiest person in this room?" Archer read. "Oh this is easy…"

"Cyril," Pam spoke up.

"Ray," Cheryl said at the same time.

"Me!" Krieger said cheerfully.

Everyone looked at Krieger. "What?" Krieger said. "I pretty much spend my days doing what I want whenever I want."

"That's because not even I would venture into lab of Franken-Krieger," Mallory glared at him. "At least not without my weapon fully loaded."

"Why don't we skip ahead to why you idiots think Cyril and Ray are lucky?" Archer shouted.

"Kind of obvious why Cyril is lucky," Pam snorted. "He banged Lana. As well as me and Pencil Necked Freak over here." She indicated Cheryl with her thumb.

"So?" Cheryl asked. "Ray was actually paralyzed not once, but at least three or four times and turned into a cyborg! He practically came back from the dead! He should have been dead long ago but he's still here. If that's not luck I don't know what is."

"Yeah but Ray got his hand eaten off by a killer plant and replaced it with one that doesn't match!" Pam said. "Cyril somehow became dictator of a country!"

"For three weeks!" Cheryl snapped.

"Yeah and he was lucky he wasn't killed or assassinated during that time!" Pam snapped.

"Ray was lucky to **survive!** " Cheryl pointed out. "And to get any hand! Black or otherwise. By the way Ray, if you want to choke me sometime call me!"

"Trust me honey," Ray winced. "There are days I **do!** "

"Cyril has a humungous dick," Pam pointed out.

"Ray's isn't exactly anything to laugh about either," Cheryl added.

"When did you…?" Ray began. "Oh god! The elevator incident!"

"That too," Cheryl shrugged.

"We sort of took a peek during some of your surgeries," Pam admitted. "Gotta admit your little Ray ain't that little."

"Technically those have to do with genetics and…" Krieger spoke up.

"EXCUSE ME!" Archer shouted. "HELLO!"

"Hello!" Cheryl chimed in.

" **I'm** the luckiest person here! Always have been!" Archer snapped.

"Ehhhhh…" Pam rolled her eyes.

"Sterling I'm not saying you haven't been blessed with good fortune from time to time," Mallory began.

"All the time!" Archer snapped.

"He _finally_ admits it," Cyril groaned.

"But we're talking about **dumb luck** ," Mallory said. "And let's face it. You don't get much dumber than these two." She pointed to Ray and Cyril.

"I'm dumber than **both** of them combined!" Archer snapped. "Wait a minute…"

"Cyril this whole conversation exercise wasn't such a bad idea after all," Ray snickered.

"How can you say I'm not lucky?" Archer said.

"We didn't say that," Pam said. "We just meant that we wouldn't want to be **you**."

"Explain that," Archer growled at her.

"I'd like to hear that too," Cyril's ears perked up.

"Because that luck of yours has got to run out **sometime,** " Pam said. "At least with Ray and Cyril they've had bad luck to even it out. But you…"

"You're kind of overdrawn at the Bank of Karma," Krieger explained. "And their debt collection agency is a real bitch."

"I mean come on!" Archer said. "I have smoking hot good looks that can get pretty much anyone I want into bed with me! What do you call **that**?"

"Genetics," Mallory gave him a look.

"I was the world's greatest secret agent," Archer said. "How do you explain that?"

"Again," Mallory said. "Genetics."

"Seriously?" Archer snapped. "You're taking credit for **my accomplishments?"**

"Considering I practically had to hold your hand and guide you whenever you were successful," Mallory gave him a look. "Yes!"

"Archer a lot of that isn't luck," Lana gave him a look. "A lot of that is called **nepotism."**

Mallory shrugged. "She's not wrong."

"Unbelievable!" Archer snapped.

"You certainly are," Lana grumbled.

"Look I'll give Ray credit on the survival thing and Cyril on the fact that he actually managed to bang Lana!" Archer admitted. "It's like a donkey managing to nail a giraffe. It just defies the laws of nature."

"HEY!" Lana and Cyril snapped.

"But I got Lana in the end," Archer said smugly.

"The way you've been treating me lately you may not have me much longer," Lana glared at him.

"And getting Lana wasn't luck," Cheryl scoffed. "That's called desperation. On her end."

"YOU WANNA PIECE OF ME?" Lana made a fist.

"YES!" Cheryl cheered.

"Nobody is going to beat up anyone today!" Cyril snapped.

"Day's not over yet," Cheryl grinned.

"Lana you go next," Mallory sighed. "Before my will to **not** murder Carol or my son gives out."

Lana pulled out a piece of paper. "What do you do to get rid of stress?"

"Drink and have sex," Archer said. "Duh!"

"Drink and have sex," Pam admitted.

"Me too," Cyril admitted.

"Me three," Ray said.

"Ditto," Mallory said.

"Yup," Krieger said. "Although sometimes I put on some Rush music and think about all the fun things I can do with electricity. And radiation."

"Drink, have sex, sniff glue, set fires," Cheryl spoke. "Next question."

"Wait a minute we haven't heard from Lana," Ray pointed out.

"We all know what Lana does," Pam said. "Or who she does."

"But not lately," Archer grumbled.

"Archer!" Lana snapped.

"Everybody **knows** Lana!" Archer snapped. "Thanks to you blabbing about it!"

"Well maybe if you weren't so obsessed with a certain over the hill movie star has been…?" Lana glared.

"VERONICA ISN'T OLD OR A HAS BEEN!" Archer shouted.

"For the love of God **shut up!"** Krieger shouted.

"Put a ball gag in it!" Pam shouted.

"Here we go!" Cyril groaned.

"We're getting sick of this stupid argument!" Ray agreed.

"Not again! Not again!" Cheryl banged her head against the table. "NOT AGAIN!"

"Cheryl maybe you shouldn't do that?" Lana winced.

"Why?" Mallory quipped "It's not like she has any brain cells to damage!"

"You know…?" Cheryl growled. "Wait what were we talking about again?"

"How Archer has been thinking about cheating on me with Veronica Deane," Lana glared.

"Don't **start** on me Lana! I have been a damn good boyfriend this time and you **know** it!" Archer barked. "I haven't even gone to a strip club in **months!** And believe me, I've been getting offers! A lot of calls from a lot of different places."

"Archer," Lana gave him a look. "Those were calls from **debt collection agencies**. From all the other strip clubs you ran up a tab in back in New York!"

"I stand by my record!" Archer snapped. "I have been loyal and faithful! So there!"

"Hang on," Lana realized. "We've been dating again for almost a year. How many **months** was it when you last went into a strip club?"

"Uhhhhhh…." Archer blinked. "I dunno…A lot of them?"

"Answer the question," Lana glared at Archer.

"I don't know! It was so long ago!" Archer said. "So, long, long, long ago!"

"Do you remember the name of the last place you went?" Lana asked.

"Uhhh…" Archer blinked. "Yes! Yes I do! It was The Pussycat Parade! Yes. Definitely the Pussycat Parade. That was the last strip club I went to. A long, long, long time ago."

"Oh yeah," Pam spoke up. "That's the one about five blocks from here. I remember, you and I went for their chicken and sushi lunch buffet three weeks ago…"

"SHUT UP!" Archer shouted.

"Like Pam didn't **already** tell me about that?" Lana glared at her. "Mallory I owe you a drink. You were right. He wasn't going to admit it."

"Told you," Mallory shrugged.

"And I have a feeling you're going to tell me **more** about this later," Archer winced. "Am I right?"

"Oh yeah," Lana glared at Archer.

"Let's move on shall we?" Cyril picked out a paper from the bowl. "What state or country do you never want to go back to?"

"Depends," Pam spoke up. "Does it count if we're also banned from that state or country?"

"Well for me it's New Mexico," Cyril spoke up.

"Ditto," Lana nodded.

"New Mexico," Ray admitted. "Closely followed by my home town in West Virgina."

"New Mexico," Cheryl spoke up. "Although I do have to agree about West Virginia. Your home is a dump."

"West Virginia as a whole is good!" Ray defended. "But yeah my home town is pretty bad."

"But New Mexico was **worse** ," Cheryl said. "Also Winston Creek, Ohio. But that technically doesn't count because I've never been there. In fact, all Tunts are banned from that town. It's a pretty interesting story…"

"Some other time Cheryl," Lana groaned. "When we feel like killing ourselves."

"New Mexico followed by Ferlin," Archer said. "Mostly because I didn't get laid. Followed by San Marcos."

"I dunno," Cyril said. "If they ever decide to reinstate me as dictator I'd go back there."

"It was one of our better vacation spots," Pam agreed. "But I gotta say New Mexico."

"I'm guessing we all agree that we never want to go back to the spot of our biggest failure that got us blacklisted," Mallory spoke up. "And abandoned in the desert to die."

"For me that was literal," Ray grumbled.

"New Mexico followed by San Marcos," Krieger admitted. "Do **not** want to run into that family reunion if any of my clones survived."

"Or the original Krieger survived," Cheryl added.

"My turn," Pam pulled out a piece of paper. "What was your favorite vacation destination? Easy! San Marcos."

"Oh yeah that was good," Ray nodded.

"San Marcos," Cyril grinned. "Definitely!"

"How can you **say** that?" Archer shouted. "We got involved in a coup, a love triangle between Calderon, his crazy wife and Carol that nearly got us killed. We nearly got bombed by both the Marines and the Krieger Clone Brigade's nerve gas. And we were almost killed by the CIA when we learned they were behind the whole cocaine coup in the first place!"

"Still one of our better trips," Cyril shrugged.

"I have to admit those three weeks we spent at the palace were quite enjoyable," Mallory admitted. "Shame it was bombed into rubble."

"Mother I was locked in a prison cell the whole time!" Archer shouted.

"That's **why** it was so enjoyable," Mallory told him. "I didn't have to worry about you screwing it up!"

"I **loved** San Marcos," Cyril laughed.

"Me too," Ray grinned.

"Shame about the nerve gas," Cyril shrugged.

"Well I loved Willemstad," Archer said. "It's a shame I got banned from it."

"Do you even **remember** Willemstad?" Mallory sighed. "Because you were so plastered you barely remembered your own name."

"I remember **parts** of it," Archer protested. "I think…"

"Krieger what was your favorite vacation?" Ray asked.

"Sewers of Paris," Krieger grinned.

"Of course," Ray sighed.

"Me next," Krieger said as he picked a piece of paper. "What is your favorite drink? Easy peasy! A Rusty Krieger!"

"EWWW!" Everyone said at the same time.

"I've always been partial to Green Russians," Pam said.

"Pam that's basically a Rusty Krieger without the breast milk," Archer winced.

"And what's **your** favorite drink?" Pam called him out. "A Screw You Driver? Get it? Because you screw around all the time."

"Just basically any of the Glengoolie Blues," Archer shrugged. "You really can't go wrong there."

"Gotta agree," Ray said. "Glengoolie Blue is the way to go."

"Really?" Mallory sneered. "I would have thought your tastes were more turned to moonshine."

"This from a woman who once drank **rubbing alcohol**?" Ray asked.

"It was on the space station and I had to make do!" Mallory snapped.

"Did you have to make do last week?" Cheryl spoke up. "I saw you drink the rubbing alcohol from the medicine cabinet."

"I misread the label!" Mallory snapped.

"Because you were drunk?" Ray asked.

"No! I put some Korbel in a rubbing alcohol bottle so none of you would steal it!" Mallory snapped. "One of you must have taken it for something and replaced it with real rubbing alcohol!"

"That does explain the smell when I used it," Krieger blinked.

"You had to drink a whole bottle to figure out that it wasn't champagne you were drinking?" Cheryl laughed. "God, do you even **have** taste buds anymore?"

"Do you ever **shut up**?" Mallory snapped.

"Really rethinking my whole luck and genetics situation," Archer groaned.

"I don't know," Cyril said. "I think you're lucky you survived growing up with your mother at all."

"To be fair between the ages ten and seventeen I only saw her about three or four weeks out of the year so…" Archer shrugged.

"So can we get off this topic now?" Mallory snapped.

"Why?" Cheryl asked. "Is there another bottle of rubbing alcohol you need to drink?"

"My turn," Ray pulled out a piece of paper. "What is the weirdest thing you have seen in someone's home?"

Krieger began to speak. "And just for edification," Ray added. "Krieger's lab does **not** count as a home!"

"Aw man," Krieger pouted.

"That's easy," Lana spoke up. "That stuffed butler in Tunt Manor."

"Oh god! I'd forgotten about that," Cyril blanched.

"I wish I could," Pam groaned.

"Definitely the weirdest," Krieger admitted. "And that's **me** saying that! I mean if that butler was your own clone or something that would be different but…"

"Winthorp was my great grandfather's favorite butler!" Cheryl said. "He was British and everything. Great Grandfather Tunt was beside himself when he died!"

"I'm only asking because I just have to know," Ray sighed. "How did he die?"

"He died peacefully in his sleep!" Cheryl snapped. "Not everything we Tunts do is scandalous."

"Oh," Ray apologized. "Sorry."

"You should be," Cheryl huffed. "It just happened very quietly. Winthorp said good night to Great Grandfather before they went to bed. He went to sleep and when Great Grandfather woke up the next morning Winthorp was just lying there beside him dead as a doornail."

"Excuse me?" Cyril did a double take. "Did you just say….?"

"Your great grandfather shared a bed with his **butler?"** Lana was stunned.

"And his head maid on the other side!" Cheryl snorted. "That's how they do it in Britain."

"It **is?** " Archer blinked.

"Duh!" Cheryl rolled her eyes. "The maid and the butler are in the bed so that they're with their master first thing in the morning or if there's an emergency. Everybody knows that!"

"This is the first **I'm** hearing of it!" Archer snapped. "Considering I had an English butler!"

"Technically Woodhouse was a valet," Cheryl corrected.

"Oh right," Archer blinked. "No wait…Still…"

"And I'm pretty sure Woodhouse wouldn't sleep in your bed considering how crowded it got," Cheryl snorted. "Of course Great Grandfather stuffed Winthorp. He was a treasured companion."

"Interesting choice of words," Ray remarked.

"You said it," Mallory blinked.

"Carol by far an actual stuffed human being is the creepiest…" Archer's eyes widened. "Oh my God! You didn't stuff **Woodhouse** _,_ did you?"

"That would explain where he's been all this time," Ray blinked.

"I didn't take your stupid Woodhouse!" Cheryl snapped. "I already have a stuffed butler!"

"He's a valet!" Archer shouted.

"Besides if anybody was going to take Woodhouse it would be Krieger!" Cheryl pointed.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?" Krieger gasped.

"She has a point," Archer gave Krieger a look.

"I didn't do anything to Woodhouse!" Krieger snapped. "It's not my fault you misplaced him!"

"Again, how do you misplace a valet?" Cyril asked.

"I didn't misplace him!" Archer snapped. "He wandered away! Or was abducted!" He glared at Krieger.

"Sterling," Mallory sighed. "Krieger didn't take Woodhouse. Besides his lab was one of the first places I checked."

"The one in New York, right?" Krieger asked.

"No, Krieger!" Mallory snapped. "The one on **Mars!"**

"Krieger has a base on _Mars?_ " Cheryl blinked. "I was Queen of Mars! But only for a day."

"Let's just change the subject **please?"** Cyril groaned.

"I didn't take Woodhouse," Krieger protested. Then he muttered. "More likely he ran off…"

"What was **that**?" Archer snarled.

"He said Woodhouse probably ran off," Cheryl spoke up. "Because you know? You really treated him like…"

"WE'RE CHANGING THE SUBJECT **NOW!"** Cyril shouted. "Before another stupid fight breaks out!"

"Hear, hear!" Mallory said in agreement.

"Me next!" Cheryl grabbed a piece of paper. "No. No…" She then went through some papers.

"Just pick **one!** " Cyril snapped.

"I want a good one!" Cheryl pouted.

"Cheryl!" Pam snapped.

"Fine! Oh this one's nice!" Cheryl picked a piece of paper. "What would you name your boat if you had one? Easy! I've named tons of boats. My favorite is Ship Happens."

"That's a good one," Pam admitted.

"I know, right?" Cheryl grinned.

"I would call mine the Queendom of Pamalot," Pam spoke up. "Or Sploosh City."

"The Red Kriegtober II!" Krieger called out.

"Cashmere Storm," Cyril spoke up.

"Ooh! I've got one!" Ray spoke up.

"Is it Hello Sailor?" Mallory sneered.

"No!" Ray defended. "It's something else…"

"What?" Mallory asked.

"It's…" Ray paused. "Hello Sailboat."

"Oh yeah that's **completely different** ," Archer scoffed. "Not!"

"I'd call mine Lucky Lana," Lana said.

"How is **that** ironic?" Archer asked.

"Have you **seen** her life?" Cheryl quipped.

"You know…?" Lana glared at her.

"I would call my yacht Duchess," Mallory sniffed. "After my beloved Duchess."

"What a shock," Archer grumbled. "Another stupid tribute to your stupid dog."

"Duchess was **not** stupid!" Mallory shouted.

"You spent more time with that dumb dog than your own son!" Archer protested.

"That's because my dog was **smarter** than my dumb son!" Mallory challenged back.

"What would you call your boat, Archer?" Lana asked.

"I bet it has something to do with the name Randy," Cyril snorted.

"It's not always Randy!" Archer snapped.

"It's **always** Randy!" Ray snapped.

"That's because Randy is an awesome name!" Archer snapped. "So what if I called it Randy…? Something. Something. To be honest I never really thought of ship names before. Car names yeah but not ship names."

"Interesting…" Cheryl realized something. "You do remember that Randy is the name of Ray's brother, right?"

"What?" Archer looked at her.

"That's right," Lana realized. "Oh my God…"

"What?" Ray looked at her. "Oh no! Not **this** again!"

"Not **what** again?" Archer shouted.

"You don't want to know," Ray grumbled.

"Yeah I kind of do," Archer said.

"No, you **don't**!" Ray snapped.

"Yes, I **do**!" Archer snapped.

"Well…" Lana chuckled.

"Don't **say** it!" Ray snapped.

"But Archer looked so cute cuddling you," Lana teased.

"WHAT?" Mallory shouted.

"You said it," Ray groaned.

"Wait, are you talking about the Mountain of Death thing?" Archer asked. "I can explain that!"

"Explain how you three were naked and spooning each other?" Pam snorted.

" **WHAT?"** Mallory screamed.

"There was no spooning!" Archer snapped. "Ray was just the DMZ!"

"You kept fondling me all night!" Ray snapped.

"Oh god!" Mallory groaned.

"Only because I was dreaming you were Steve McQueen!" Archer protested. "Wait a minute…"

"Oh that's **much better**!" Mallory said sarcastically.

" **Nothing** happened!" Archer snapped. "We had to sleep naked to conserve body heat during what I assume was the snowstorm of the century! Lana was having a hissy fit so she made Ray sleep between us…"

"And that's when Archer spooned Ray," Pam added.

"PAM!" Archer and Ray snapped.

"Can we just change the subject **please?** " Archer groaned. "Before that I have to say nothing has, or **will ever happen** between Ray and me! Or is it Ray and I? Either or!"

"Because apparently, Archer is into black dudes," Ray remarked.

" _ **WHAT?"**_ Mallory screamed.

"RAY!" Archer shouted. "What was talked about on the Mountain of Death, **stays** on the Mountain of Death!"

"Kind of puts the whole incident with Conway Stern in the men's locker room in perspective," Pam smirked. "You know? Because his penis touched yours?"

"This is **just** what a mother wants to hear!" Mallory groaned.

"Well Ray has a black hand now so…?" Pam began.

"PAM SHUT THE HELL UP!" Ray shouted. "Somebody change the subject **please?"**

"Please!" Archer groaned.

"Fine, I will finish this pointless exercise out," Mallory grabbed a piece of paper. She discarded it and then picked another one. "No…" She discarded that one as well.

"Mother!" Archer barked.

"She got to change!" Mallory pointed to Cheryl.

"Just pick one!" Lana barked.

"Fine!" Mallory picked a piece of paper. "What is your biggest regret? That's easy, hiring **all of you!"**

"Shocker," Archer chuckled.

Mallory glared at her son. "Tied with not having a condom that **worked** the weekend you were conceived!"

"Do you actually **remember** the weekend?" Archer snapped. "Or were you too blitzed the entire month?"

"Don't sass me!" Mallory snapped. "You have been nothing but a disappointment since the day I came back to raise you!"

"After abandoning me for the first five and a half years of my life!" Archer shouted.

"I was working!" Mallory snapped.

"Is **that** what you call it?" Archer snapped. "From what I've heard from your past boyfriends it was more like **whoring around!"**

"Well you'd know all about **that,** wouldn't you?" Mallory snapped. "For years, you've bed hopped from one whore to another! Here a whore! There a whore! Everywhere a whore-whore!"

"Uh yeah," Cheryl snorted. "He was looking for the love you never gave him as a child because you were whoring around!"

"Carol I swear to God…" Mallory growled.

"You're just upset that your son got further with Conway Stern than you **ever** will," Cheryl kept going. "And so did I!"

"SHUT UP CAROL!" Mallory and Archer shouted.

"Make me!" Cheryl shouted.

"FINE! I WILL!" Mallory shouted as she tackled Cheryl.

"AND I'LL HELP YOU!" Archer attacked as well.

"ARCHER NO!" Cyril shouted. "HER PAYCHECKS FOR PROTECTION ARE THE ONLY THING KEEPING US ALIVE!"

"Yeah I need some cash so back off!" Pam shouted as she and Cyril dove into the fight.

"I got to get this on film!" Krieger took out his camera to film the chaos. Pam was fighting Archer. And Cyril was getting the worst of it between Cheryl and Mallory.

"I have got to get better friends," Lana sighed as she got up and left the room. "And to pick up my daughter."

"God I love these meetings," Krieger grinned as he filmed.

"Well if conversation wasn't a dying art before, we certainly killed it by now," Ray groaned.


End file.
